


Our Particles that Burn

by boltschick2612



Category: Hockey RPF
Genre: M/M, Off-Season, Stanley Cup Playoffs, Tampa Bay Lightning, an injured goalie is a sad goalie
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-29
Updated: 2015-07-29
Packaged: 2018-04-11 22:33:39
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,410
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4454981
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/boltschick2612/pseuds/boltschick2612
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <i>Ben lays still in his bed, trying to filter out all the small twinges of pain coursing through his body, instead focusing on how this night feels exactly like all the others had since their season came to a screeching halt; numb, and in all the wrong places. It feels to him as if the postseason had ended ages ago, but it had only been about a week, and all of the mental and physical bruises are still fresh.</i>
</p>
            </blockquote>





	Our Particles that Burn

**Author's Note:**

> Ok, maybe I didn't take well to losing either. Maybe I needed an outlet for my post-season feels. 
> 
> Written to take place about a week after the Stanley Cup was handed out, and to include the injury of a torn groin that Ben suffered in the Final. Fiction is fiction. I don't own people or teams. 
> 
> Title taken from 'Strangeness and Charm' by Florence + The Machine.

Ben hates the word 'painkillers,' yet he's become an intimate friend with them within the past couple weeks. The colloquial term that's thrown around so frequently, makes him cringe each time he hears it. In the best case scenarios, they're a chemical crutch necessitated by some kind of damaging injury, and in the worst case scenarios, they're the focus of an addiction. 

Still, all that doesn't stop Ben from wondering if these 'magical pills' could take away the mental pain, as well as the physical. He thinks that maybe he's taken enough of them by now, that eventually the numbness will spread up his body, through his spine, and wrap around all the jumbled corners of his mind. A small part of him wonders how much of his now nightly ritual, which consists of swallowing a few small white pills before crawling into bed and praying he doesn't move around too much in his sleep or wake up too sore, will serve to soothe his mind as well as his torn and tired muscles. Yet at the same time, he knows it doesn't work like that, and he's just about convinced there’s nothing that will quiet his thoughts, or untangle the mess he's built there.

Ben lays still in his bed, trying to filter out all the small twinges of pain coursing through his body, instead focusing on how this night feels exactly like all the others had since their season came to a screeching halt; numb, and in all the wrong places. It feels to him as if the postseason had ended ages ago, but it had only been about a week, and all of the mental and physical bruises are still fresh. 

They were so close, yet so far. Made it all the way, only to have it slip through their fingers. Ben's had nearly every dull, clichéd phrase run through his mind when thinking about how close they were to winning the Cup, and having it all. 

He knows that Steven blames himself, saying he wasn't enough, and Tyler seems to think suffering through a broken wrist shouldn't have stopped him. The many sharp and saddened words of his teammates' post game interviews hit his ears, but they all rang hollow then, and they still do now. To Ben, all the blame rests squarely on his own shoulders. 

When he finally knew that the pain he felt wasn't going to go away, no matter how many times he pulled himself out of a game, it only meant that he had to push himself further. He needed to be there, on the ice, even if it meant playing until he couldn't even feel his legs. The logic might seem backwards to some, but Ben couldn't let himself be the reason his team was eliminated from the playoffs, not again, and especially not after they had made it so far. Even in the end, it all seemed for not. 

He can't stop himself from wondering what could have been, might have been, if only his body hadn't betrayed him. If only he hadn't tried to make that save. If only he hadn't pushed the tensile strength of his already overworked muscles, past their breaking point.

With all the disappointment and broken thoughts swirling around in his head, Ben's become rather good at compartmentalizing them all. There's the part of him that feels he's let down his team, and then there's the part of him that feels he's let down Val, and that part hurts the worst. He had wanted nothing more than to see Val raise the Cup once more, right next to him, in Lightning blue. The sight of Val smiling with the joy of winning the ultimate prize, would have been almost better than the prize itself. 

Ben had once promised Val that he'd win him another Cup ring, and he can't stand the way the unfulfilled promise eats at him. It's a nagging feeling, twisting away at the pit of his stomach every time he thinks about the words he uttered to Val late one night, and how he almost made them come true. It was a vow he had made sometime last season, and one that he thought he'd have the rest of his career to fulfill. But now he's not so sure. 

He's slowly realizing that nothing is guaranteed, beyond eighty two games a year. There's not one thing assuring Ben that he'll be enjoying a deep playoff run year after year, or even that he'll be on the same team. He was traded to the Lightning in exchange for a promising, young player with a lot of potential, and there's always the very real possibility he can be traded away just as easily. 

As far as they had gotten this year, Ben knows it would be delusional for him to think there aren't better goalies out there, and that there aren't a few down the pipeline just begging for a chance to take his place, one of them even backing him up, currently. Sometimes when Ben thinks about it, he finds it hard to breathe as he wonders just how long it'll be before Andrei makes him obsolete, or expendable. He tries to tell himself that he's overreacting, but there's a small voice in his head, one that shouts rather than whispers, that the young rookie doesn't have Ben's history of a dislocated elbow, surgically repaired wrist, and recently torn groin. 

Sometimes, it feels to Ben like he never left college, or the AHL. So many of those nights were filled with the same type of pain, and anguish of wondering just when someone would finally catch on to the fact that maybe he didn't belong. 

One of the things that Ben knows is different about tonight, however, is the fact that he's not alone. He may have pulled himself into his own little world of thought, but there was someone else, someone important, sharing his physical space. It's a fact that suddenly comes rushing down on him, like a cold waterfall crashing over his head, when the soft fabric of the covers are pulled from his body, and the chilled air sweeps over his skin. 

Ben shifts onto his side, being careful to not to twist in a way that might send jolts of pain throughout his body. His eyelids are still heavy with the threat of sleep that would not come, but he can see the sharp outline of Val's body against the inky darkness of the room. He can make out the gentle slope of Val's shoulder, the curve of his arm, and the bundle of sheets he had stolen to wrap around himself. If that fact alone isn't enough to let Ben know that Val is really there, and not part of some disjointed dream, then the feeling of Val's toes, gently poking at his shin, lets him know for sure. There's been moments when Val's calm demeanor and placid stare would convince Ben that he had ice water running through his veins. The chill of Val's skin against his leg does nothing to dissuade him. 

Ben wants to break the silence, but his brain is far too tired to come up with a well timed quip, and he's not entirely sure it would be a good idea to wake Val. He'd almost rather lay there, half asleep, and watch the gentle rise and fall of Val's chest until sleep finally manages to take him. Seconds later, Val speaks in a voice that’s drenched in sleep, and Ben isn't entirely convinced that he’s even awake.

"Cold."

Ben tries to stifle the laugh threatening to escape him. "I can tell."

"Hold me?" Val mumbles, in a voice that sounds slightly more present than before. 

There's nothing Ben wants more than to hold onto Valtteri, just like all the fleeting moments that are slipping through his fingers. He wants to hold him tight to his chest, and make him promise that no matter what else leaves, he'll be the one thing that never does. Ben wants to do all this, but he can't force the words from his throat, or past his lips. Instead, he moves his body closer to Val's on the bed, and works his way under the blankets that surround Val like a cocoon. His hand seems to find Val's hip like second nature, and the whispered words escape Ben before he even realizes that he's talking. 

"Always."

**Author's Note:**

> I also do the [Tumblr thing](http://boltschick2612.tumblr.com/), if you care to follow. <3


End file.
